Prepper's Sacrifice (8 page)

‘Oh god. Maybe I should call again,’ he said out loud.

Just as Stewart reached for the phone, his ring tone tuned in. He grabbed the phone as quickly as possible, ‘Tim’ he answered. ‘How you doing buddy?’

‘Living,’ Tim replied in a tone that exploded with appreciation. ‘Alive and well.’

‘That’s great to hear, buddy. When you didn’t answer, I thought that maybe...’

‘Nah, nothing like that. It’s still pretty early and with nothing to do I figured catching up on a year’s worth of sleep wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Can’t say I don’t know the feeling. The only problem is that when you sleep too much, even sleeping gets boring.’

Tim chuckled. ‘Tell me about it. I’ve got the feeling that even my dreams are running low on creativity. Maybe it’s the whole marriage thing. You tell me.’

‘Marriage thing? I’m afraid to say that I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Marriage. The same woman every night. Waking up to someone other than you’re reflection each morning on end. I told you I’d been shacking up with Nadine ever since this whole thing started to get out of control.’

‘I was about to say… Thought you’d hopped on over to the nearest chapel in the height of the pandemic. How are y’all doing though?’

‘Ah, she’s great man. A real keeper. I’d never pegged myself as the kind of guy who could be tied down, but she’s a real charmer. She makes me seriously consider settling down.’ Tim’s voice was a bit lower now and Stewart assumed he was trying hard to not have Nadine hear the cuteness that was spewing out of his mouth.

‘That’s definitely great to hear. You’ll find that settling down is a lot more refreshing than it’s made out to be. Most people will tell you about being single and partying all the time but won’t key you in on the loneliness.’

‘You’re darn right about that. When the hangover’s wearing off, it’s nice to have someone who cares have their hangover wear off right beside you.’

‘So… on to another subject. If that’s okay.’

‘Yeah, go ahead buddy, anything.’

‘How are you guys doing on food?’

‘We’ve been scraping by. Can’t say that I’ll be walking around with a potbelly anytime soon but I’ve managed to collect stuff here and there from a few old friends and some randoms who were auctioning stuff off for one reason or the other. Never thought that food could ever cost a Rolex and a nice necklace, but hell, it’s the price you’ve got to pay for survival.’

‘You gave up your Rolex for food?’ Stewart replied, startled.

‘Not quite. Two hazmat suits. The necklace went to the food.’

Stewart was elated to hear that Tim had hazmat suits. He hadn't considered when devising his new bartering business plan that Tim and Nadine would also need to keep their bodies protected.

‘Okay, because what I wanted to talk to you about could really help if y’all are low on supplies. See… Anne and I keep having people knock on our doors. In the day, it’s pretty easy to ignore but at night time, you know that there’s no sleeping when your doorbell keeps going off.’

‘Yeah. We’ve got the same thing going on here.’

‘People haven’t got the means of going too far so you’ll find that in neighborhoods like ours which are a while away, the violence tends to stay on the low.’ Stewart had heard quite a bit about the rise in violence in the news and knew that there were many areas where the people didn’t have it as easy as he did. ‘So, back to what I was saying. Anne and I have been thinking about using some of our items as barter. We’ve got so much and it’s kinda sad to have to turn everyone away when they come knocking.’

‘I haven’t got anymore Rolexes lying around,’ Tim joked.

‘No, no. Nothing like that. What I was thinking was that we could use your help to open up shop, if you can call it that. Feel free to say no, I’ll understand. But we could really use an extra hand or two. Of course, payment would be in supplies, so you and Nadine wouldn’t have to worry about falling into a trap the next time you start running low.’

‘Sounds great, Stewy. There’s no saying no to that. When do we start? Yesterday?’

Hearing Tim say Yes so quickly made Stewart smile. ‘Ah, that’s great that you’re in on this.’

‘Of course I’d like to talk to Nadine about this, see if she’s up for it and all.’

‘Definitely. Definitely. Now that you’re tied down and all, the decision making isn’t just up to you,’ Stewart joked.

‘Speaking of which, what did it take to convince Anne?’

‘Oh, she was happy about it. I couldn’t even allow the idea to come to my head if I didn’t think it would be okay with her,’ Stewart laughed. ‘But yeah, she’s totally on board. I’d say we could get started at some point today if you’ve got the time. At least do something small, a trial run, maybe.’

‘Give me just a minute and I’ll call you back. I’m gonna run it by Nadine and see what she thinks. I don’t think she’ll say no.’

Stewart and Tim said their goodbyes shortly before Anne arrived in the room.

‘All good?’ She asked.

‘He needs to find out from his lady if it’s okay, but he says he’s totally up for it.’

***

They were rich, or at least they felt rich, sorting through all the items they’d received in exchange for food. It had been over a week since Anne and Stewart had opened up shop with the assistance of Tim and Nadine. The profits were aplenty, making it hard to not walk around without an ever present smile.

Tim had been the driving force behind getting Stewart and Anne. It seemed as though he was operating their barter ring with a vengeance. Perhaps this vengeance came in seeing Hazmat suits take the place of his Rolex. Whatever it was that caused him to bid high, Stewart and Anne loved reaping the benefits. Initially, Stewart and Anne may not have been people who would allow someone to trade their souls for a cup of soup. However, the more they received, the tougher their shells became. Each wedding ring, each rare comic book, each stack of cash and each precious coin that landed in their hands was another vacation that they could embark on; another notch in the belt of financial success.

‘Check this out, Stewy,’ Tim said quietly, presenting Stewart with a clenched fist.

‘What you got there?’ Stewart asked.

Tim looked around before unclenching his fist. ‘My freaking Rolex, dude,’ he whispered. 'I could spot that guy from a mile away, the one I traded it to. I’d had my eyes on him ever since he walked up to the gate and I told myself that even if he came looking for a square of toilet paper, my Rolex would be the charge.’

Stewart smiled at how passionate Tim was about his Rolex. A few weeks ago, he would have never been able to connect; to understand how to love an item as much as Tim did. However, now, he was starting to get a feel of what it’s like to be materialistic. He understood how to fall in love with an item, having fallen in love with the 1941 Captain America 2 that he ran his fingers through each night. Sure, it wasn’t a pristine copy, but it was definitely worth more than a pack of cigarettes and two cans of Coke.

‘You’re something else Tim.’

‘And you’re the owner of a
freakin’ Rolex
.’

‘Oh no.’ Stewart shook his head in disapproval. ‘Absolutely not. That’s your watch.’

‘Stewart. It’s your watch.’

‘Well. Consider it a gift.’

Stewart loved seeing the look on Tim’s face. It wasn’t very often that Tim was completely and utterly surprised.

‘I don’t know what to say, man. I mean, if it were me, I’d keep it.’

‘You are keeping it.’

Without warning, Tim wrapped his arms around Stewart and squeezed tightly.

‘You’re not gonna start crying, are you?’ Stewart teased.

Tim didn’t answer but instead continued to hug Stewart. After what felt like forever, he finally let his hands fall.

‘I say we take care of a few more customers and then start packing up. No?’

‘No probs, man. Lemme see if I can win another Rolex.’

Tim and Stewart parted ways. Stewart headed back to the gate to their front yard where at least 40 people waited in line.

‘We’re gonna call it a night guys,’ he yelled to the crowd.

A great deal of opposition followed. This was something that Stewart had gotten used to. However, after that first night where his conscience had caused him to stand outside until ten o’clock trading items, he’d learned that if he wasn’t firm, he’d be in for another late night.

‘Come on dude,’ yelled one person.

‘Don’t be an ass,’ yelled another.

Stewart chimed in, ‘Come back tomorrow and we’ll be out here at nine o’clock sharp,’ and turned away.

If it weren’t for the gun he permanently had in his hand, he was sure that he’d have one or two people try to hop the fence. Fear was what kept those people behind the fence. He'd made it clear on the second day that anyone who tried to enter without permission would face harsh consequences, no questions asked. This was a statement that was repeated at the beginning of each day and word spread really quickly: Stewart had a gun that he wasn’t afraid to use. Those who had known him prior to this experience could have seen through the façade, but the stern look he wore made those who didn’t know him, fear him.

Tim, Anne and Nadine managed to bring all the supplies inside by themselves, surprising Stewart at just how quickly they could do so. He took one quick look behind to see that the crowd was still clinging to the smallest amount of hope that he’d come back

‘Everything good?’ his wife asked him.

‘More or less. Kinda pains my heart to see so many people lined up out there but I know that’s how it has to be. Safety above everything and all.’

Anne leaned into Stewart and placed her head on his shoulder. ‘What do you say we take a nice long bath when they leave? Try to forget about all the people we couldn’t help and remember that we’re still doing something good.’

Stewart nodded before turning to Tim and Nadine, who were in a conversation of their own. ‘So, what are y’all looking to have tonight?’ he asked.

‘What’s up for grabs?’ Tim replied.

‘Whatever you’d like.’ Stewart could see Nadine tugging at Tim’s arm and knew she had something to say, but was hoping Tim would say it for her. ‘What is it, Nadine?’

‘Oh, nothing. It’s probably too much trouble.’

‘I’m sure it’s not. Go ahead and ask. You guys have been such a great help, I’d be happy to help out however you’d like.’

‘Well… I was just thinking that maybe you guys have something sweet, like some ice cream. I’d love even a spoon if you do. It’s been beans and rice and nothing fancy for so long, not that ice cream is fancy but…’

‘Anne, you’ve got some ice cream in the freezer, don’t you? Would you mind…’

‘Of course not. Come with me, Nadine, and see if there’s something in there that you want to have.’

The ladies disappeared into the kitchen. Stewart and Tim didn’t follow.

‘Suits you well,’ Stewart commented on the watch, now glimmering around Tim’s wrist.

‘I can’t tell you how naked I’ve felt without it. Got it from my dad years back, when I’d landed my job at the bank.’

‘It’s good that you didn’t lose it forever.’

‘I can only imagine how he'd have winced, watching me hand it over.’

‘He was probably proud of you.’

‘Oh no. If there’s one person who loved shiny things more than me, it’s Papa Joe. That man would have starved in his own home if living meant giving up his bling.’

‘Okay, we’re all set,’ Anne chimed in.

Nadine had a smile plastered across her face. ‘Thank you again, Anne,’ she said before knotting her fingers into Tim’s.

After they had left, Stewart asked for Anne to bring his tool kit so that he could board up the door before they went to bed.

In between hammering, it occurred to Stewart that Nadine had asked for ice cream and nothing else. ‘Honey, are they really only having ice cream for dinner?’

‘No, silly,’ she replied. 'She took some pasta and sauce. Said she didn’t need much though because they’re planning on spending the night here tomorrow and they’ve got quite a bit of food left from the last batch we gave them.’

‘Okay. Great. I figured as much but just wanted to make sure. Are they low on gas?’

‘She says they’ve got another bottle at home, but I just thought it would be nice to have a nice night with friends, so I invited her to stay. I hope that’s not a problem. I know I should have run it by you first I just didn’t think you’d mind.’

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Steward said before he returned to nailing the ply on the door. And then the strangest thing happened. With his fist on the wood, and his fingers holding the nail in place, resistance came from the other side of the door, causing his hand to tremble.

At first, Stewart though it must have been the wind but then, a loud
bang
told him otherwise.

Chapter 10

‘Anne, you’ve got to come help me nails this in,’ he cried to his wife.’

This was the first time that Stewart realized just how weak the barrier he had created was; he knew it wouldn’t stand strong against anyone who
really
wanted to get in. Anne came closer to him, panic in her eyes, and pushed against the door while Stewart tapped the last nail in.

‘Get your suit Anne, and put it on fast. We don’t know who’s on the other side of that door and we can’t take any risks.’

Anne quickly made her way upstairs to the quarantine room where she kept her hazmat suit. Stewart, who was already suited up ran toward the dining table where he had placed his gun he got back inside.

‘Who’s there?’ he yelled.

No one answered. Instead, pushing and banging were the only things to be heard. Stewart watched as the nail after nail lifted.

‘Anne, get the other gun and stay upstairs.’

Anne was now at the top of the stairs, looking down. ‘Stewart. I’m not staying up here while you tackle them by yourself. There are three of them out there and just us two.’

Stewart realized that Anne had snuck a peek out the window. ‘Do they have any weapons with them?’

‘I saw a baseball bat but that was about it. I’m coming down, Stewy. Plus, the other gun’s under the sofa.’

‘Anne, I don’t want you to stay down here. If they’ve got a gun, you never know what could happen.’

‘Stewy, if they get past you, they’ll get to me. So let me help.’

Stewart didn’t answer. He was trying to devise a plan in his head. He needed to come up with a way that would ensure that once these people got into his home—because at this rate, they might—he’d be the one with the upper hand. But there was another problem. Though he doubted that someone who was sick would be breaking down a solid door, he knew it was a possibility.

‘The lights,’ he whispered to Anne, ‘flick the lights off.’

Anne did as she was told. Stewart made his way over to the sofa, which he pushed away from the wall and facing the door. He took Anne by the hand, and pulled her down behind the sofa.

Quietly, he said, thoroughly pronouncing each word, ‘aim and shoot.’

He could feel Anne trembling beside him. She was a good shooter, a great shooter at that, and she’d proved herself time and time again in the shooting range. However, having a live target was a whole new ball game and one Stewart knew his wife wasn’t ready to tackle. But there was no other option. They had to protect their livelihood.

Stewart squinted, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. Little by little, his vision became clearer; clear enough that he could see the silhouettes of most of the items in front of him when he peeked above the couch.
Bang.
The ply fell to the floor and within a second, chaos ensued. Stewart's head shot up, he took aim, and he started to take his anger out on the trigger of his gun. He could feel Anne against his feet. She didn’t get up. He knew that she was too scared, but he needed her help. One of the intruders was down, that he was sure of. Two more shots and no movement. Stewart was uncertain whether or not he got the other two. He couldn’t see them, which made him instantaneously regret his decision to turn the lights off. He ducked down behind the couch again, peeking out from the top to make sure that he saw any sign of movement in front of him.

‘Run,’ came a voice that neither belonged to Stewart nor Anne.

One figure made its way toward them. Stewart fired a shot but missed. Another figure popped up and just as Stewart was about to aim, he heard the whimpering of his wife.

‘Leave me alone,’ she cried.

He moved his foot to the side, to see that Anne was no longer beside him. This caused him to boil over with anger.

‘Leave my wife alone, you bastards.’

‘Put down the gun,’ a rough voice tuned in.

‘This is my house. My fucking house. You get out this instant or I swear, I’ll kill every last one of you.’ Stewart’s threats weren’t empty ones. The fury that filled his body made him feel as though he’d put their heads on pegs and line them up outside his house just to show anyone who wanted to try the same thing, that he wasn’t to be messed with.

‘Including her. You’ll kill everyone, including her,’ the same rough voice said.

Anne’s cries stung Stewart’s ears and he knew that he had to do something to get her out of the arms of the intruder.

On his hands and knees, he crept over to the light switch and flicked the lights on. Just as he was about to pull himself up, a sharp pain traveled along his back. He’d been hit by one of the men. Stewart went down, calculating his moves and as the intruder attempted to land another strike, Stewart extended his leg, landing the intruder on his face. He then sprung to his feet and put the guy in a chokehold with one hand while placing the gun on the intruder’s head with the other. ‘You let my wife go this instant, or I’ll blow his brains all over this living room.’

‘You wouldn’t,' said the guy who had Stewart’s gun pointed at his head.

‘Oh, try me,’ Stewart threatened. ‘I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t let her go, the both of you will be in for a treat. One…two…’

Anne practically bounced off the floor and ran towards the stairs. ‘What are you gonna do, Stewy?'

‘Go upstairs, Anne. Just go upstairs, close your eyes and cover your ears.’

‘We’re not killers. Just let them off with a warning.’

‘So that they can come back in full force? No way!’

‘Listen to your wife, Stewy. Just listen to her. You don’t really want to hurt us,’ said the intruder who had Anne restrained just a few moments ago.

‘Don’t Stewy me, you bastard. Don’t you dare fucking
Stewy
me.’

‘Please,’ Anne begged. ‘We’ve already killed one of them. This is our house, Stewy. This is our home. We can’t have this in our home.’

‘Anne, I said go upstairs,’ he barked, even louder this time.

***

Anne watched as her husband transformed into a man she didn’t know. She understood that he was only trying to protect his family. She knew that he was angry because someone had put their hands on her but she didn’t want him to do something that he couldn’t take back.

‘Go upstairs, Anne,’ she heard him say again. His tone grew harsher and harsher each time he told her to leave.

Her mind told her to stay, to plead for as long as it took for Stewart to drop the gun. Unfortunately, her feet had their own agenda and before she knew it, she was leaping from step to step until she was finally in the bedroom with the door closed and her heart pounding a million miles per hour.

There was something telling her that Stewart wasn’t going to calm down, that he wouldn’t just let this incident slide. She covered her ears, pressing her hands as tightly against them as she could. For a moment, the voices disappeared, but this disappearance wasn’t brought on by a simple halt in conversation. Instead, the voices disappeared due to a gunshot taking its place. Anne’s heart felt as though it skipped a thousand beats in that moment.

‘No… No… No…’ she cried into her hands. Anne waited and waited to hear the other shot, but nothing came. Then it dawned on her that her gun was hidden under the couch. In all the commotion, she’d managed to kick it away while being dragged by one of the intruders.

Bad thoughts flooded her mind. Thoughts of Stewart being overpowered. Thoughts of one of the assailants retrieving her gun from underneath the sofa and excusing her husband from existence. She wanted so badly to go downstairs, to make sure that Stewy was okay. With her ear now pressed against the door, she tried but failed to hear what was going on the other end. Her hand glided up to the door knob where she pulled, attempting to lift herself to her feet but the fear had turned into weakness and her wobbly feet didn’t permit her to stand. If Stewart had been shot there’s no way she wouldn’t be next. She doubted that the men would just take whatever they wanted and leave her alone. Maybe they were after all the items they’d acquired from bartering. Perhaps they’d been people she’d sent off with food and other supplies in exchange for their prize possessions. If they were, it wouldn’t surprise her. After all, the value of a lot of the items they collected could make even the most honest man consider turning to crime. In the case that they were in search of
treasure
, there was no doubt in Anne’s mind that they would come looking for her, especially if that gunshot she had hurt was them deciding her husband’s fate.

The valuable items they’d received from bartering were stored in a safe in her closet. That closet was in her bedroom and
she
was also in her bedroom. Of course, they didn’t know this, which meant that when they were done tearing apart the other sections of her home to no avail, they’d come storming in. She had to leave. She had to get out of that house before she was tortured for a combination she wasn’t willing to give up, especially not to the people who had murdered her husband.

Again, her hand latched onto the doorknob, and she pulled, harder than before. Once on her feet, pressed both palms against the door, stabilizing herself as best as she could. She wasn’t hurt, but she was weak. The entire situation had taken toll on her body, on her strength, in a way that she never thought possibly. Quietly, Anne turned the key in the bedroom door and then proceeded to open it just a few inches, enough to allow her to see that the hallway was clear. She tiptoed outside of her bedroom, placing her hands against the wall for support. Past the stairs and on the opposite side of the corridor, she could hear pulling and struggling and was certain that the men were trying to move something heavy, perhaps her husband, This thought prompted more than a few tears to come streaming down her cheeks.

‘Quietly… quietly…’ she said to herself. She wanted to scream, to shout, to break down and cry, but if she was going to get out of her home without the intruders noticing, then her only option was to keep it all in. Finally, her hand landed on the door to the quarantine room. One push and it was opened. Again, trying to move as quietly as possible, she mustered up all her strength the pull the ladder from the corner where it was kept and to the window. She swung the window open and
crash
, it connected with the ladder, knocking it down.

‘Anne?’ came a voice from downstairs.

Now it was time for her to really hurry. She could feel the adrenaline pumping as he arms gathered enough strength to hoist the ladder in the air and throw it down the window. She shook at its ends, ensuring that it was stable enough to carry her weight. Now there were footsteps in the hallway. She needed to move faster. One foot out the window, stabilized. Another foot out the window, stabilized. The footsteps got even closer and then came her name again.

‘Anne, where on earth are you going?’

She froze then looked up to see a tall figure hovered over the ladder.

‘Stewy!’ Anne exclaimed.

‘You’re not… But  I…’

‘Anne, where are you going?’ Stewart repeated.

Anne started climb her way up the ladder and within a few seconds, had one foot in the room. Stewart reached his hand out; she took it and he pulled her back inside.

‘I heard a shot. Someone fired a shot. I wasn’t just imagining this, was I?’

‘Anne. I’m okay. That’s all that matters. Get back in the bedroom and lock the door.’

Ecstatic to see her husband, she wrapped her arms around him before making her way back to their bedroom. Of course, there were a million and one things running through her mind. Had Stewart killed one of the guys? What was the purpose of the shot she heard? The thought that Stewart had killed someone else made her stomach turn. Though she did understand that in the event that he felt threatened, it may have been the best decision to make, she couldn’t help but think that somehow, that sweet man she called her husband would be tainted. She hadn’t been the one who pulled the trigger on the first guy who fell to his feet. His body lying in the entrance of her home was an image that she would never be able to forget. What if the same thing happened to Stewy? She couldn’t help but think about the great deal of counselling they’d need to get through everything, provided Fort Lauderdale and the rest of the world ever managed to return to normalcy.

***

Downstairs, Stewart contemplated his next move.

‘Just shut up and let me think,’ he barked at one of the intruders.

‘Joseph, just hang in there man. It’s not that bad. You’ll be alright.’

‘None of you will be alright if you don’t just shut the hell up. Joseph’s your name, right?’ Stewart turned to the guy crouched over in a pool of blood.

‘Yeah. I’m Joseph,’ the guy replied.

‘Okay Joseph. So I know that your leg is probably hurting like hell.’

‘Of course it hurts—you fucking shot me!’

‘Yes, Joseph. I did shoot you. But that’s because you refused to sit the fuck down when I asked you to. That’s because you broke into my house, threatened my wife. That’s because you’re the bad guy here. Now, I’m fully capable of bandaging your wound and preventing you from bleeding out and ruining my floor even more than you’ve ruined it already. But what needs to happen is that the both of you sit tight and allow me to think. Allow me to decide what the hell to do with your friend over there.’ Stewart pointed at the dead guy who now acted as the barrier to his home. ‘And what’s your name?’ Stewart turned to the other intruder. ‘Derrick, I’m Derrick.’